a love:hate relationship

3.07.2012


See the photo above? We have a love:hate relationship. I honestly do enjoy these fun colorful round balls. They have thus far provided my son countless hours of fun. In their original package they happily accompany a helicopter--giving access to the joy of popping them into the top and allowing it to spin, "vroom", and provide an audible sensation of a helicopter at its best. Since then these balls have gotten lost amongst the other cars, Legos, and planes in Jonah's toy box. To be honest, I haven't seen much of them.  Other toys have found their way to the top of the pile to entertain and peak interest. Since the event explained below, I have allowed my imagination to wonder and have made many comparisons to that of the toys in 'Toy story'--feeling abandoned and dismissed. So, it's understandable their reasonings behind the dreadful scheme they devised.  Quite sad what a toy will do to receive recognition these days, I tell ya..

Despite their ability to entertain, they equally somehow persuaded my son and his unknowingly toddler mind to believe it would be fun to immerse both of them into the cold, germ infested porcelain bowl of our downstairs bathroom.  Furthermore, they sunk themselves deeper into the pipes of the toilet to ultimately stop any usage ability.   After a gruesome week or so, Grandpa came to their rescue and dislodged the toilet to ultimately free them from their deserving discomfort.  I sit here hoping these fancy, egotistical objects learned a lesson or two--Something along the lines of understanding the havoc one can bring upon a mother who has no idea or understanding of a toilet's anatomy, let alone how to unravel a wire hangar and attempt revival.

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So--after a serious consideration of throwing these objects into the trash for good--I  have come to a conclusion.  In all fairness I will forgive these colorful toys. After all, I cannot disclaim the fun and happiness they have given to my little guy. I would miss the unending acknowledgement of a, "ball!!" around the house--it just wouldn't be the same. So, after a good punishment of bleach, (to of course clean them of any remaining toilet residue or pride, whichever the greater) I will allow the fun to commence once again into the hands of Jonah, (who, mind you, was a culprit himself and was given a stern talking to) with the bathroom door shut.   I might even drop them into the toy box and allow them to sink to the bottom...but that would be mean and wasn't abandonment the seed that sparked this joyous event?

A love:hate relationship at it's finest.  Don't you agree? 

'a month's memories'--February

2.29.2012


'A month's memories' photos are taken on the Instagram iPhone app (free) and dropped into a collage using Picasa. I am @shancockhap on Instagram if you want to follow the feed. 

stepping stones

2.21.2012



Okay so this post could in fact end up being one of those mushy posts--a post where my thoughts and emotions come out and I look back and say--that was deep. But I believe it's something that has to be noted every once in a while--a notion that we all must take and endure. Even if it ends up being 'mushy'.  As I have mentioned before, I write on this blog secretly for my own selfish reasons.  Yes, it's for our friends and family to see the updates on what is happening in our lives, but really to express feelings, let it all out and give me a sense of relief knowing these events in our lives have been noted in some form--words, photos, or both.

Here I sit on the plane headed back to seattle.  I have felt this utter urge to write out these feelings of  'love' or mushiness per say, to the point that I cant wait until tomorrow morning during the time I routinely blog after a trip or holiday to write down my thoughts and post photos.  Its usually during Jonah's nap, in front of the computer, with a cup of coffee in hand.  But tonight it's different--my draft of a post will be written in an aisle seat, and complimentary beverage will have to do.


It's not a new found realization, as I have known all along. Its more of a confirmation of how much I love my husband.  He is my world. He is my best friend. There wasn't a profound event this weekend that I was given this confirmation.  But rather being in every moment with him allowed it to escape. We needed this time. We needed these moments of confirmation. It had been seven weeks since seeing him and the next is six weeks away. We needed this stepping stone. 

Visiting him in Philadelphia this past weekend gave me that push. It started that stream of confirmations..the reasons in stating I love this man as much as I do.  The happiness and eagerness I felt stepping off from the airport shuttle to see him sitting in the hotel lobby for me. The joy in his eyes as he stopped at yet another Dunkin donuts for my third hot chocolate that day--because making me happy is his priority. The laughter we shared in moments of spontaneity. The comfort of making myself home in his 'home-away-from home' on base. How easy it was to relax and fall asleep so quickly. Even the giddiness I felt when he reached for my hand while walking to dinner. As these confirmations seeped slowly, a prominent moment was a humble acceptance--as I walked around the airport waiting for my flight home. I saw other couples say their goodbyes.  I couldn't help the lump in my throat and the tears from forming. I had that confirmation that amongst the sadness of our distance, I am blessed.  I have a love and friendship so strong that will, and has held its own.


We were able to explore Philadelphia. With only an iphone to guide our way, we set forth and ventured out to the city. We saw the Liberty Bell and Independence Hall. We went to a couple movies, shared dinner together and caught a great comedy show. He introduced me to the strange 'jug handles' New Jersey has to offer to drivers, the heavenly taste of Dunkin donuts hot chocolate and quite possibly the best taco pizza I've ever tasted. But most of all--we shared moments together. Moments of clarification that I noted above--ones solidifying that I love this man with all my heart and I could not ask for anything more.

Jonah was in good hands this weekend, as my mom and a great friend watched him while I was away. 
And now as I sit in front of the computer to re-read my 'aisle seat' of a draft, I cannot imagine our life without the one that sleeps soundly upstairs.  While in Philly, I filled Patrick in on all the new-found words and tendencies that Jonah has learned the past two months.  I know it hurts his heart to hear of moments he's missed, yet filling it with joy at the same time.  I know Patrick is fearful that the 'daddy' Jonah knows may be lost come April when he visits.  If  moments like the ones I experienced this past weekend made an appearance in my world, I know they will be  present in Jonah's come April.  It's only a step away..and if stepping stones are the only means to endure these moments with him--we will forcefully jump on them until June. 



Valentine love 2012

2.14.2012


I wanted to make this Valentine's special.  And I didn't forget to make sure Jonah was equipped with the appropriate attire for today(unlike last year).  We made cookies, devoured them, received fun Valentine's, and made sure love was in the air.  Despite that daddy is away, I made sure to note that Daddy loves him, Mommy loves him and most importantly--Jesus loves him, as He is the one who defines love. Here's to a Happy Valentine's Day in the Hancock household. 


introducing 'a month's memories'--January

1.31.2012

Pictures have inspired me lately.  I've taken on the task of assembling Jonah's one and two year digital scrapbook, and in doing so have really enjoyed reviewing all of the photos that we've captured these past two years.  A photo is a memory.  It's captured for you to experience that moment whenever you'd like.  I've sat countless hours reflecting, smiling, and remembering those special moments we've captured.

That said, Patrick is away for six months training--and he cannot experience all that we are here at home.  So--I've taken on the notion of trying to capture more of our memories, moments, and day by day events that we've had here.  I've decided to share 'a month's memories' for the next six months.  I was inspired by a blog I follow, in which she displays a 'phone dump' every week of her memories taken from her phone.  Hopefully this notion will bring forth more reflections, smiles and remembrances.

Without further ado--

'A month's memories' photos are taken on the Instagram iPhone app (free) and dropped into a collage using Picasa. I am @shancockhap on Instagram if you want to follow the feed. 

Power--and the lack thereof

1.21.2012

The past two days, there have been moments.  Moments of panic, moments of fear, moments of frustration.  There have been those of submission, knowing God is the only One I can rely on.  I've had several breakdowns where it seems like worries and fear have gotten the best of me, letting my doubts take over, and leaving me sit with a loss of what to do.   I have punished Jonah from his fits of angst so many times, it has left me feeling as if I am the worst mother on the planet. Amongst these moments of a common ground, I have also been comforted with those of joy.  I notice the innocence that my son carries--not understanding the crisis that we are experiencing.  He just thinks it's a day we get to stay elsewhere, something fun to do. While I have been in a driving state of concentration, Jonah happily has sat in the back seat enjoying the snow all around us. I've experienced a relief, and grateful demeanor, with those of realization that it could, in fact, be worse.

If you haven't seen on the news, Washington and Oregon have gone through what the reporters are calling, "snowmageddon". The bulk of the storm hit Tuesday night, leaving us to wake up to 8 inches of snow on the ground and counting. Car accidents, trees toppling, and icy road conditions were just part of it. Wednesday, reports of power outages began to stream in on facebook. We luckily held power throughout the night, but it soon ended Thursday morning at 7am. I heard it--it was soft, it was quick, and brought with it a heavy state of fear.  There in the room next to me slept an innocent boy.  It would be one thing if it were me by myself, but now it was another circumstance all together.  The temperature in the house would drastically decline. Patrick was not here to calm me down, or chauffeur us around to a safe place.

Let me just note that I have learned these past couple days that I am a little more naive than I thought I was.  In the past, I have relied on my husband to take away any fear that the weather brings.  He has always been my chauffeur when it comes to snow, and driving in the snow, and anything that holds a slight chance of the roads being icy.  He has always calmed my fears when we lose power, and has always been that physical support when I am at my whits end, sitting in fear of the unknown.  So when I heard news a storm would be coming our way--me and my naive self didn't think much of it.  Lesson now learned.

As stated, I have had moments.  That moment the power went off was one of nothing. Simply nothing. I stood there not knowing what to do, who to call, where to go.  This moment quickly changed to thoughts of, "what if" and realizations that I, clearly in no way, was prepared.  News came in that over 20,000 in our city alone were without power and it could be several days until electricity was restored. My husband was a quick text away, and knew my state of fear.   He booked Jonah and I a room on base, providing us with a warm and safe place to stay Thursday night.

I knew Patrick felt remorse that he couldn't be here in this state of panic and did all he could do to calm me down through texts and his voice.  With that though, I had a moment of realization.  Several of them, in fact, all reiterating the same thing--I had to do this. on. my. own.  I had to swallow my fear, take control of the situation, and hold an attitude of courage.  So I drove to the base--it may have taken me a slow 45 minutes and there may have been tears shed while doing it, but we got there.  With Jonah in tow,  I hauled our bags and Jonah's pack-n-play up the stairs.  We made ourselves comfortable for the afternoon and night.  I italicize 'comfortable', because anyone knows that no place is comparable to or like home in these conditions, but we made the best of the circumstances.  Happy to be in a heated and safe place.

As expected, our night didn't involve much sleep.  Being in a different environment put a toll on Jonah's ability to fall asleep, and my panic sunk further as I worried what the next day would bring.  Friday morning our home was still without power.  Having made plans to stay with a friend for the day, and possibly that night depending on the status of power, I checked out of our room.  I went home to assess the temperature and get more food and clothes.  With little sleep, Jonah gave signs of tiredness--and I chose to try and put him down for a nap.  With a onesie, full set of pajamas, jeans, hooded long sleeve shirt, and three blankets he fell asleep in two minutes flat.  Guess there's nothing like, -home sweet home-, despite the cool temperature of 51 degrees.

Right now I sit in a warm house.  I hear the soft hum of the computer as I type this, the dryer running upstairs, and am drinking a hot cup of coffee.  I am having a good moment.  A moment of clarity.  I've learned more about myself in the past couple of days then I thought possible.  You may think 33 hours without power is nothing to get all upset about. But for me, this was hard.  The emotions, the weight, the worry--all of it was hard. Simply stated.  Reflecting on all that has occurred, I am exhausted.  Physically and emotionally.

By all means, I do not want to experience it all any time in the near future--but having gone through this has allowed me to see a different side of myself.  I've learned when I am stripped of what I feel necessary to survive, I am stronger. That motherly instinct kicks in.  I, along with God's strength, can be powerful--even if my world lacks it.

Twenty nine reflections

12.31.2011

I subscribe to several blogs online.  Some are those of friends and family and some are those that I have never met, yet their writing and photos make me smile and give me a sense of happiness. They provide different views of family life, shed light on motherhood, and give a different perspective on obstacles we all as humans face.  Reading them allows an escape from any chaos, yet parallels a feeling of, “I am doing something right”.  It’s comforting.

Lately, the posts I’ve read all have a common thread—reflecting on this past year and the idea of going forward, looking ahead into what may present itself in 2012. One in particular caught my attention.  She spoke of her birthday always landing at the end of each year, allowing her to reflect on what she has learned and gaining a momentum to move forward. 

That said, my 30th birthday is in eleven  ten days.  Yes, THE dreaded 30 that I hate to even mention.  Truthfully I haven’t embraced the whole idea yet.  In past years, I’ve been excited of the upcoming festivities my birthday withholds. This one? ...not so much.  I don’t know why it bothers me so much.  Maybe its saying goodbye to those “20s”.  I’ve labeled the phrase “you are still so young” to only belong in that sacred decade. Knowing that security blanket of a phrase will be forever lost come next Tuesday is daunting.  But Tuesday will come and I will be forced to mark a different age category.  I knowingly must embrace it somehow.  And reading these posts on reflection gave me a momentum to embrace this new era in my life.   I quote Kelle Hampton, (her fantastic blog here) saying, “I've learned that every year brings more experiences, more layers, more character chiseling--a gradual metamorphosis into a better, brighter, wiser, more compassionate being. And that fact alone makes birthdays and new years thrilling. I whole-heartedly embrace Thirty-three  today.”  I second that—minus three.

So—I’ve decided to go full force into this newfound decade.  Happily.

It’s a tradition for her, and I am sure for many, to reflect on things she has learned within the past year. What better way to look ahead at a new decade then to reflect what I’ve learned?  I think I’ll borrow this annual notion and reflect some.

--With numbered days left in my 20s, I give tribute without delay.  Here are 29 things I’ve learned in 2011--

1.       I’ve learned a deeper definition of family.  Simple and strong as that.

2.       I am a morning person.  The notion of sleeping in until noon passed over a decade ago, but the idea that I enjoy waking up early is a new found one.  There is something about the warmth of a freshly brewed cup of coffee, the hum of the computer as I check emails, and a peace in knowing the men in my life are upstairs blissfully asleep.  Waking, only to learn I am the first up has become a pleasant invite to my days.

3.       I share the same pinky toes with my brother. Slightly stumpy.

4.       “mommy” is the best name--hands down.

5.       Laundry and emails can always wait—reading “Mr. Brown can moo, can you?” cannot.

6.       I become anxious quite quickly.  Not my best trait.

7.       The very reason I love peanut butter as much as I do—my mother ate a lot of it while pregnant with me. A validation long awaited.

8.       I underestimate my creativity.

9.       “I love you’s” will forever be in this family’s vocabulary.

10.   Party planning is my secret indulgence. I love a themed party. If a party is on the calendar, you can bet I am on the hunt for the perfect favor, topper, and recipe…even if it involves late nights, phone calls to the post office ensuring delivery, and hours of ‘pom pom’ assemblement. Yes—I am that gal. A slightly proud one at that.

11.   When I have an idea, I go with it.  My mind focuses on nothing else--tho a good trait to carry, I've learned it doesn't always deliver a perfect outcome. I am learning that my plans aren't always Gods plans and going  off course once in a while or slowing down isn't always a bad thing.

12.   My husband ceases to amaze me. His determination and drive has always inspired me, yet he continues to challenge himself. A trait many strive to carry-he humbly holds.

13.   My son has rhythm...I like to say he inherited  that from me. His best moves are usually seen on Sunday evenings. There's something about the football theme song(and maybe a little Faith Hill) that bring his spins and claps to new levels.

14.   Patrick has come to the conclusion, and I agree with him, that Lionel Richie is a modern troubadour. A song bird. :)

15.   Succumbing to comparisons always leads to worry. It also leads to a false definition of who I am as a mother.

16.   Iam slowly becoming a "yogi". The act of "being still" ironically is a work in progress.

17.   I have always been a woman of routine--recently, I have become more spontaneous. It's refreshing.

18.   There's something special about the things we learn from grandparents--as adults or as children.

19.   Most days--I'll choose comfort over casual. Proof? Aside from special events--Tell me the last time you saw me in shoes other than my black sweater "Bear Paws"?

20.   The award for "Best maker of airplane/trucks/train sounds" will forever be awarded to Dadda. Mommy just never makes the cut.

21.   Training always pays off.

22.   Traditions lie within that definition of family stated above. They hold strong.

23.   Naps (or lack thereof) can make or break a day.

24.   Couponing requires effort, time, and strategy. It's not difficult, but rather is practical and ethical. Most of all--it's rewarding.

25.   Getting coffee will forever be in my list of "to-dos". That’s just me.

26.   There's a difference between understanding and accepting.

27.   After 29 years, I still worry what others think of me.  Yet, the process of accepting those perceptions (both positive and negative) has become easier.

28.   Friendships grow deeper with time.  At times, true friends may know you better than yourself.

29.   I am blessed beyond measure.  I have none other to thank than my God above.

                                                                                                                   
Happy New year and cheers to turning thirty. 

                

Hancock Christmas 2011

12.25.2011

Snapshots of a Hancock Christmas...

Christmas pajamas and captured moments before Santa comes..
First moments of realization--
Traditional cinnamon roll breakfast--

Gifts ('cars') galore--


A BIKE (!!!!)

a perfect remembrance

12.24.2011

Yesterday we celebrated Christmas with the McCarter family.  Several family members came together from afar to celebrate.  We ate a delicious dinner and all gathered in the downstairs room by the tree to open gifts.  My memories of Christmas will always hold dear to my heart.  And being in the midst of it all yesterday brought back memories of my childhood and all the joy and wonderment I held at Christmas--The tree all lit up, the chaos of opening presents, the warmth, the smell, the decorations. This year held all of that.  It was perfect. 

McCarter Family Christmas 2011

The remembrance of Christmas I carry is exactly what my mother wanted for her grandchildren this year. For a moment, just a small moment, I sat from across the room and watched my mother. She grinned as she witnessed all the wonderment of Christmas in her house.  I knew she was content.  In that split of a moment I captured, I knew she had received that perfect gift she worked so hard to receive.   She witnessed grandchildren in awe of Christmas.  The soft glow of colored Christmas lights on the tree, the joy of opening yet another gift from grandma and grandpa, eagerness as children opened their stockings, "mmmms" from the taste of grandma's frosted sugar cookie--it was all there. She witnessed  the sharing of toys with cousins, the twirls of her granddaughter's new Christmas skirt, the giggles, excitement, and an abundance of  "Thank You"s.  It was all accounted for.   


Merry Christmas, Mom.  You've given us a gift in itself this year--a perfect remembrance of Christmas.

ONE year photos

12.21.2011

A little late.  Okay--more like 8 months late--but here are photos that were taken on Jonah's first birthday.  



 

Santa 2011

12.03.2011


Jonah loved Santa and actually told him he wanted a bike for Christmas.  It was fun seeing him interact with Santa. Here are a few snapshots of this eventful occasion--



photos of undermining growth

11.28.2011

For the past couple days I’ve been going through several photos of ones taken throughout this year.  I’ve been trying to decide which ones are best for a Christmas card photo and how to convey all our family has endured this past year.  I just cannot seem to choose 3-4 photos that transmit it all.  It makes me value the importance of words and reiterates the expression, “a picture is worth a thousand words”.  .  Yet I am stuck with choosing the perfect picture(s).  For I want our Christmas photo to be one that conveys many words—words describing all the feelings, experiences, learning, and growth within the past year.

It’s difficult to describe that said growth.  There lies the reason I’ve had such difficulty choosing the perfect photos.  Our family has truly grown this year—not only physically (in Jonah’s sense), but personally.  I look at Jonah’s first scoots and moment captured of crawling.  I see determination as he takes his first steps.  I smile at his interest in daddy’s planes and wonder if he’s at that point of where dreams develop.  I am curious if he’s near that stage we as adults speak of when referring to time. --- if he’s developing his own specific “moment I can remember”.  I reminisce, looking at photos from his first birthday party.  Today he has grown taller, his personality shines, his understanding of the world is deeper.

I look at photos from the beginning of the year to present day and see the dependency that was once so vivid decrease.  Jonah now is a more independent boy with an abundance of curiosity and fearless wonderment.  His vivid expressions are clearly something that is passed down by yours truly and he is not afraid to express his sense of liveliness.  

   



Watching the bond between father and son is a joy.  From the photos of the first moments with his son and those now, the bond still holds strong.  There is nothing better than watching Jonah look at pictures  and recognize ‘dadda’ himself.  


Patrick and I have both set active goals for ourselves this past year and have met them full force. I laugh looking at my half marathon finisher photo—I am clearly expressing happiness.  Happiness not otherwise felt if it weren’t for a strict training regimen, an abundance of sweat/sometimes tears, and a determined mindset.  This dedication, drive, and determination are characteristics I didn’t know I held within.  Similarly, I see excitement in Patrick’s smile as he finished the Seattle to Portland ride.  There is a presence of pride and another affirmation that he can do whatever he puts his mind to.


I look at photos of my reunion with my mother and siblings.  I reflect and notice that I’ve learned more of who I am—what makes me ‘me’, and the traits that I share with my new found family.  I now know where my traits stem from. I have seen myself in my mother and siblings and feel more grounded.   I’ve learned where my breaking point lies, now know what it means to endure “waves of emotion”, and carry a deeper definition of family.  


Viewing my ‘cake creation’ photos, I smile. This year, I’ve tapped into what makes me happy.  I’ve found outlets that are therapeutic and have allowed myself to dwell within the creative nature God has given me.  I have recognized the importance of time solely by myself and have embraced it.


And to think I get all these ‘words’ from these photos—words that may not ever be  noted with the options at hand….  Of course, Christmas cards will be sent--for it wouldn’t be Christmas without them, but I hope this post gives a deeper reflection.   It has simply outlined what I’ve wanted to convey our family has been blessed with this year--An undermining, beautiful, note-worthy growth.  




Traditions hold strong

11.25.2011

This year Iam really thankful for traditions.  I’ve learned that traditions are very comparable to the definition of a true friend.  Regardless of what hiccups you’ve had along the way, it will always pick up where you’ve left off-no grudges or questions asked.   This year Jonah experienced Thanksgiving in all its glory.  Slightly different from last year, he saw traditions at first hand—however, I want to note that I would never demote last year’s Thanksgiving in any way.  We made wonderful memories.  Reflecting on last year, and the time spent with our family makes me smile.  I am once again reminded that Thanksgiving, in addition to the tradition of a good meal, is TOO, about family and its importance. I look back and smile at Jonah’s innocence and laughter at 'Sharis', and release any grudge I held against the weather.  

Our family holds traditions-a large table is always beautifully set for dinner.  There will always be grandma Reimer’s crescent rolls made, lima beans present, and although you may not notice it, celery will always make its appearance in my mother’s stuffing.  My aunt will always make her delicious green jello salad and some type of cream pie (chocolate or coconut) will sit at the desert table waiting to be devoured.  A blessing is always said, thanking our heavenly Father for the many blessings He has given us, expressing our gratitude for family and friends to gather together.  Laughter, stories, and smiles fill our home—something that I look forward to each and every year. 
 
Eighteen of our family members gathered together yesterday to enjoy the traditions our family has made.  It brought me a sigh of relief. Our family traditions held strong.  Not that I had any doubt they wouldn’t, but it was so nice to experience the joy of Thanksgiving and what I’ve grown up with it being.  Enjoy a few snapshots we took throughout the day. 

First hair cut

11.05.2011

I had to mentally prepare myself for today. What may not seem a big deal to some, it surely was one for me.  One that marks a deeper reality that my son is growing up.  Jonah had his first hair cut today.


He sat with many options for distraction--a gadget filled police car, several toys, and a movie to watch. Watching the stylist put his cape on, Jonah was probably more ready than I was at that moment.  A moment that most likely was nothing out of the ordinary for others, but one I had to embrace myself for.  This was my baby--getting his first hair cut. I managed to get by with only a few tears myself--knowing the very hair that was getting trimmed was the virgin hair he was born with.  With only a few fearful cries himself, Jonah sat and got a stylish new do.



As much as I wanted to keep it (and I did..a small amount for keepsake), the cut was much needed.  He now sports a handsome cut, lacking any makings of a fine haired mullet, and providing us a clear view of his ears. My 'not-so-little' man looks so handsome. 

our little Superman

10.31.2011


Jonah was Superman this year.  (don't you love his slicked back hair...we thought it was an added touch) 
It was his first year to actually go out and trick-or-treat.  He was a pro..such a big boy he is turning out to be.


Halloween preview